


In this Neon Necropolis

by lesbianbean



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Corrupt Institutions, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Mafia Wives Seduce the New Kid on the Force, Organized Crime, Rule 63, toxic workplace environments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbean/pseuds/lesbianbean
Summary: Optimus Prime and her team are in charge of managing traffic in the city, but they've discovered something much bigger. Of course, no one at work is listening to them, and Optimus is pretty sure that at least one of the mafia bosses is trying to seduce her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so: backstory for this AU--  
Cybertron is a loose alliance of city-states. Iacon is the capitol city, where this story takes place. The organized crime that Optimus is discussing has its roots in Kaon, where it began about twenty years ago. Since then, it has spread to most city-states in the Cybertronian Alliance, but not the capitol. This is a point of pride for the current leader of Cybertron, Ultra Magnus. The head of the mafia, known as the "King of The Underworld," is a shady figure. Few outside her inner circle know her identity. However, a few brave journalists have uncovered ties between the mafia and the Air Command corporation--prior to their premature retirement.

“So, to conclude--” She swiped, bringing up the holograph of her final chart, trying to surreptitiously dry her palms on her uncomfortable uniform pants. “--um, it is clear that organized crime is a much bigger issue now than it was a year ago at this time.”

“Thank you, Optimus.” Jazz smiled at her, and for a moment she thought everything was going to be all right. Until she saw Sentinel’s scowl. 

“Optimus.” Her former friend sat forward in his seat. “A question?”

She braced herself. “Yes, Sentinel?”

“When our esteemed Ultra Magnus made the regretful decision to hire you, did I not have you assigned to traffic duty?”

“Yes, but--”

“--And does any of your punishingly long report have anything to _ do _ with the task I assigned you and your team to handle?”

“Well, it’s actually kind of interesting--I started off by examining the pattern of traffic accidents over a series of months and noticed that it increased in specific areas of the city, which made me think to--”

“Optimus! Let me clarify my previous question. _ Why _ are you spending company time and resources chasing shadows, when I specifically assigned you to traffic duty?”

This was going to end poorly, and she’d _ known _ it was going to end poorly, it had been ridiculous to assume otherwise. “I felt like it was necessary to bring possible holes in city security to the attention of my superiors.”

“Precisely, Optimus. Superiors. And, as I, your _ superior_, have told you before, there is no organized crime in our capitol city.”

Optimus spoke before she thought. “But that’s just not true! You know it, I know it, and Ultra Magnus knows it too!”

Sentinel stood up. “Are you saying that our esteemed Magnus is a liar?”

“I’m--” Optimus sucked in a deep breath. _ Deescalate. _ “Look, Sentinel, I’m on your team. No one cares about this more than me. I just want to make sure we’re doing everything we can to keep people safe.”

For a moment, Sentinel looked like her old friend--the person who had made her flashcards about the Cybertronian legal code and brought her and Elita homemade smoothies and shared his sleeping bag on missions. And then his face hardened again. “You can keep people safe by doing your job, Optimus. If I need someone to give out parking tickets, I’ll give you a call.”

Jazz cleared her throat. “Listen, Sentinel, I--”

“Save it, Jazz. Optimus, get out.”

Optimus walked out of the room, keeping her back straight until she got to the elevator, and as the elevator took her down to the first floor, and out through the sleek glass and metal lobby, and then out the wide double doors. As they closed behind her she finally let her breath out in a long, shuddering exhale. 

Every time she walked into the main Iaconian Security building she could feel tension--in her shoulders, her jaw, the pit of her stomach. Like the building knew somehow that she didn’t belong and was trying to expel her.

* * *

“I’m not sure what you expected.” Ratchet slid a drink across the table. Optimus took a gulp without looking and almost choked. 

“What exactly is this?”

“My tested and approved cure for depression.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to cure my depression by killing me.”

“Eh.” Ratchet shrugged. 

“You’re a _ doctor! _”

“This can sterilize bullet wounds.”

“Really?” Bumblebee looked up from fishing pieces of fruit out of his own drink. “Can you tell me how to make it?”

“Sure.” Ratchet started scribbling on a napkin. “You know, this saved my life back when I was on the emergency medical team in the Hydrax District. It was the crack of dawn and we’d been taking heavy fire for hours...”

Prowl sat down, pushing a tray of sandwiches into the center of the table. “I am fairly sure that you have told this story before.” 

“And I’ll tell it again!” Ratchet grabbed a sandwich off the tray. “And you’ll listen,” Bulkhead groaned, letting her head fall on the table with a clunk. Ratchet whacked her with a napkin. “Sit up! This could save your life one day.”

Optimus wasn’t sure about the capability of the drink to save lives but she admitted she felt somewhat better after she was halfway through it. Or numb. One of the two.

“I don’t get Sentinel.”

Bulkhead ripped the crust off her sandwich. “He’s an asshole. What else is there to get, boss?”

“He just...wasn’t always like that.”

Ratchet laughed humorlessly. “You never can tell what your friends are like until they get a little power.”

Optimus sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It just sucks, you know?”

“Believe me, I do.” Ratchet looked like she was about to launch into another story, but then Prowl cleared her throat. 

“I suppose this is a bad time, but I do have some information for you, Optimus.”

“No, this is a good time. Talk to me, Prowl.”

“All right. Well, I have a, um, a connection.” She gulped down the rest of her drink. “And she said she could take me and a few of us to where the mafia usually smuggles goods into the city. But since Sentinel shut things down--”

“No.” Optimus took another painful sip of her drink and slammed the glass onto the table. “You know what? We’re doing this.” She noticed her team exchanging worried looks “Listen, I’m not saying we just go in guns blazing. Bee, Prowl, you two can come with me, and we’ll hook you two,” she pointed at Ratchet and Bulkhead, “up to some long-range comms systems. It’ll be simple, we won’t use any of our unit’s resources, and we’ll come away with important recon.” 

Ratchet cleared her throat. “Optimus? May I provide some constructive criticism?”

“No.”

“That wasn’t really a question. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Megatron isn’t the kind of person who lets people see what she gets up to and get away with it.”

“That’s why we need to do something _ now_. Iacon is a beacon of hope and democracy to its residents--are we going to let it be dominated by fear and corruption?”

“If you think it isn’t already, you’re a fool.’

Bumblebee sighed. “Do you always have to be so negative, Ratch?”

Ratchet pointed across the table. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Okay, okay.” Optimus gently guided Ratchet’s arm away from Bumblebee. “Look, I know this is kind of ridiculous, but I also know we’ve been tracking the mafia presence in the city for months now. I’d reckon we know it better than anyone else. We have a chance to get actual proof of what they’re doing, proof that the city leadership can’t ignore. You don’t have an obligation to come with me. But I believe we are stronger together.”

“Wow.” Bumblebee grinned. “That was so cool. Do you really think we can do it without getting caught?”

Optimus smiled back. “I really do.”

* * *

**Eight Hours Later**

“Get down, you.” 

Optimus was shoved to her knees with a thunk. She heard Prowl and Bumblebee hit the ground next to her.

Someone yanked the bag off her head. “Wakey, wakey.” Optimus blinked in the bright light, wishing her hands weren’t tied behind her back so she could shield her eyes. She tried to access her comm link and only heard static. Her battlemask was still on, shielding the bottom half of her face, which she appreciated.

“Where are we?”

Someone smacked her on the back of the head and her nose hit into the front of the mask. “You don’t do the talking, y’understand?”

The speaker was a tall, broad-shouldered woman. For a moment, Optimus thought she only had one eye surrounded by other decorative mods, but then she realized they were smaller eyes. _ Lugnut, _ she thought, remembering the file she’d read. A former gladiator, one of Megatron’s closest companions. Probably the person who had taken them to this big empty warehouse after they got ambushed. Lockdown, Prowl’s contact, stood next to Lugnut, deliberately not making eye contact with any of them. 

“Lockdown!” Prowl angrily shifted on her knees. “You slimy, double-dealing, no-good--”

Lugnut glared at her. “I said shut up!”

Lockdown grimaced uncomfortably. “Listen, sugar, it’s not personal. It’s only business.”

Prowl tried to stand up, only to be shoved back down by Lugnut. “_Business? _”

“Yes. Business.” Optimus jumped at and looked up, trying to place the different, higher-pitched voice. There was a clicking sound above--high heels on one of the metal platforms. “I’m not sure if you two are familiar with the term. It’s what I operate. And what you seem determined to keep interfering with. ” The speaker was standing on the edge of the warehouse platform. She was a short, dark-skinned woman in an immaculate magenta pantsuit. Her curly natural hair was cut close to her head, showing off her enormous sparkling hoop earrings, and she had some kind of elaborate flight mods, silver metallic things that folded elegantly into her back. She noticed Optimus staring at them and smirked, casually swinging herself over the platform railing, snapping them out with a sharp _ crack_, and landing lightly on the warehouse floor. 

“Who--”

Another voice interrupted her. “Starscream, we don’t play with our food.” Optimus had only seen blurry pictures of her before, but she recognized her instantly. The notorious “King of the Underworld,” who had worked her dark will in nearly every city-state in Cybertron. Megatron stalked across the room, her stride fluid and predatory. She wrapped an arm around Starscream’s waist, tilting her chin up with her other hand and kissing her. Optimus swore she could hear Starscream make a soft, satisfied noise when they broke apart and she bit her lip behind her mask. Megatron touched the smaller woman’s cheek before turning to look at Optimus. 

“All right, officer. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

Optimus sputtered for a moment before her brain came back online. “Why do you _ think _ I’m here? You--”

“Take off your mask, darling.”

“Don’t you--you _ kidnapped _me and my team. I can only assume you hope to teach us some kind of sadistic lesson.”

Megatron tutted disapprovingly. “Come now, surely you can do better than that. If I wanted you dead, officer, you and your little friends friend would already be on a trajectory off the Greater Cybertronian Bridge. So tell me. Why are we having a conversation?”

“I’m not interested in your games, Megatron.”

Starscream laughed. “You were right,” she said to Megatron, as if she was settling a bet the two of them had made. “She’s scrappy. Anyway, Optimus Prime, let me speed this up, since my wife clearly isn’t in the mood. Your little detective routine is cute, but it’s also getting irritating. So this is a polite warning to fuck off.”

Optimus snorted before she could stop herself.

“_That _ was polite?”

Starscream smiled at her, a sharp, frightening thing that made something warm pulse between Optimus’s legs. “Believe me, sweetheart, you don’t want to see our impolite.”

Megatron put her hand on Starscream’s back, the gesture both possessive and...protective, in a way that made the warm feeling in Optimus’s core grow, desire with a twist of jealousy. She wasn’t sure which one of them she was jealous of, though. 

“Let me tell you what’s going to happen, officer. In a few hours, it will be morning. We’ll drop you and your friends off somewhere, and ideally this will be the last we hear from you all. If, for some reason our paths cross again, your experience will be less pleasant.” 

* * *

Optimus and Bumblebee didn’t recognize the corner of the city that the three of them had been unceremoniously dropped off in, but Prowl did. After what felt like an eternity of walking they managed to get back into comms range at a tiny diner with half the neon in its storefront burnt out. 

They squeezed into one of the sticky booths and wordlessly stared at the rotating menu hologram. “God, I’m tired.” Bumblebee rested his head on the table with a groan. A waitress approached their table.

“Can I get you anything?” 

“Order whatever you want, guys.’ Optimus said. It was the least she could do after the night they’d had. Bumblebee’s head shot off the table.

“I’ll have the pancake breakfast. And...” he scanned the menu, tapping a section to bring it into focus. “A shake, with two energy shots.”

Prowl ignored the menu. “Black coffee and toast. I think we should call someone, Optimus.”

“You’re right.” Optimus glanced at the waitress. “Um, I guess just coffee? And whatever pastry is freshest.” 

“All right.” The waitress shuffled away, humming to herself.

“Perhaps Ratchet would not be the best person to contact first.”

“You think?” The sarcasm crept out before she could stop herself. 

“Yes, I do.” Prowl was unperturbed. ”Do you think Bulkhead is available?”

“I’ll comm her.” Optimus looked down at her wrist and realized that the wide silver communication band she wore around her wrist was gone, doubtlessly confiscated by Lugnut. “Okay, I’m gonna borrow a cuff from the waitress. You guys eat.”

The waitress was friendly--or maybe she just saw the desperation on Optimus’s face. Optimus made the mental note to leave her a large tip. 

“Optimus!” Bulkhead’s image was glitchy but she could see her friend was worried. “Where the hell were you? Are you guys all right?” 

“Just shaken up. Lockdown sold us out. We got grabbed by some of Megatron’s hired goons and they roughed us up a little, but didn’t hurt us too badly.”

Bulkhead turned her head, listening to something out of Optimus’s call range. “Ratchet’s pissed.” 

Optimus chuckled. “Yeah, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Also, Optimus--” Bulkhead’s voice changed. “When you went offline, we had to, um, call--”

Optimus had expected it, but her stomach dropped anyway. “Of course. I’m glad you did.” 

“Ratchet talked to Jazz--Sentinel doesn’t know yet. But Ultra Magnus does. Ratchet is speaking with him right now, trying to smooth things over, but it’s not looking good,”

“I get it.” She hadn’t even realized the sick feeling in her stomach had vanished but it was back with a vengeance. 

Bulkhead glanced away again, probably listening to Ratchet. “Stay where you are, okay? We’ll pick you up.” Optimus nodded.

“Thank you, Bulkhead. Thank you both”

“I’m glad you guys are okay.”

Even though she was exhausted and felt like she might throw up, Optimus couldn’t help but smile at her friend. She had them, and she had more information about what was threatening the city she had sworn to defend. That wasn’t nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please just tell tfa Optimus "you're doing a good job."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus struggles to hold down her job, research the mafia, and deal with very confusing dreams.

Everything in Ultra Magnus’s office was perfectly organized. He had two massive windows that could show any part of the city you wanted to see, if you just entered in the coordinates, The shelves of datapads behind his polished white desk were perfectly alphabetized. Every time she was there, even now, waiting to get read the riot act, Optimus’s fingers itched to pull _ A Comprehensive History of Iaconian Architecture _ off the shelf. _ Focus_, she sternly ordered herself. 

Ultra Magnus folded his hands on his neatly organized desk. 

“You understand, Optimus, that you have put me in a difficult situation.” 

“I do, sir.” 

“Sentinel ordered you to drop the investigation into mafia activity.”

“He did, sir.”

“And instead you and your team decided to launch an independent mission based on the testimony of a known criminal and nothing else.”

“Sir, it wasn’t my team.” Optimus realized she was gesturing and quickly folded her hands in her lap. “It was completely my idea, I talked them into it.” 

“Really.”

“Really! If you want to punish someone, I’m the one who’s responsible. Not them.” 

“Hm.” Ultra Magnus took a sip of his coffee. “I admire your forthcomingness.” 

Optimus looked closely at her superiorior officer’s face. “Sir, may I speak freely?”

Ultra Magnus’s expression didn’t change. “What is your concern, Optimus?” 

“I’m not sure if Sentinel gave you my report, but my team and I were captured by members of the mafia. We were confronted directly by a number of key operatives, including with the King of the Underworld herself and the current CEO of Vos Air Command. I have reason to believe that they are operating directly out of Iacon--”

“Optimus.” Ultra Magnus held up a hand in warning. “There is no mafia presence in Iacon.”

“Sir, all due respect but that’s not--”

“What proof do you have?”

“My team and I were captured by some of their top operatives!”

“You were captured by people who _ claimed _ to be operatives of their....organization. And even if they really were who you say they are there’s no proof that they’re operating out of Iacon.”

“I think it’s a reasonable deduction.”

“We do not make deductions or assumptions here. My Iaconian security units have a duty to remain level-headed and logical.” His voice rose just slightly, and Optimus realized she had half-risen from her chair. She sunk back down, chastised. 

“I understand, sir.”

“Do you? I put my career on the line hiring you, Optimus.”

“I know. I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t.” Magnus’s stern face softened, just slightly. “Get some sleep, alright? Come back tomorrow ready to work, and we’ll move on.”

Optimus nodded. “Of course, sir. Thank you.” She stood up and walked to the door, trying not to move too quickly.

“And Optimus?”

“Yes?” 

“I am serious. Drop it.”

* * *

Optimus didn’t drop it.

She probably should have, it wasn’t like they were going to take her evidence seriously, even if she had a signed confession from Megatron and Starscream confirming whatever they had been up to. That didn’t stop her from spending most of her weekends in the library looking at blueprints and old law books and driving out to scope out possible drop points at night. 

No one on her team talked openly about what had happened, but an unofficial secret language emerged. 

“Hey, Optimus!” Bumblebee handed her a stack of blurry photos. “I saw some reeally horrible driving yesterday. But don’t worry, I got pictures, even if the traffic camera missed it.” 

“Thank you, Bumblebee.”

“I mean, _ really _ horrible driving. Like, the worst possible--”

“I understand, Bumblebee.” 

“You need a better hobby,” Ratchet told her later as they looked over the blurry photographs.”

“It’s not a hobby, Ratchet.”

“We’re supposed to be monitoring transportation in Iacon. Not trying to save people from the mafia.”

“Well, who else is going to do it?”

“That’s not the only reason you care so much about this, Prime. No one is that noble.”

Optimus sighed, “Look, I don’t--when I went into this line of work I thought, ‘Hey, traffic duty isn’t much but at least I’m doing something honest.’ And then it turns out that not only has the Decepticon crime ring infiltrated the city, the government is actively covering it up.”

Ratchet gave her a sideways glance. “Okay, and?”

“And I don’t know! But I know that the truth exists, and at least when I’m researching organized crime the books never tell me I’m crazy.” She looked over at Ratchet. “I’m not allowed to talk about how one of my best friends actually died. My supervisors are constantly telling me to lie to the people I need to protect. And--” Optimus sighed. “Every time I’m at the security building I hear people whispering about me. I just need something that tells me the truth. You can call me an idiot, I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No.” Ratchet’s voice was softer than usual. “I wasn’t thinking that.”

* * *

She was being watched. It wasn’t obvious, at least not at first. The drone following her initially seemed just like one of the surveillance drones that swept over the city. But after a few weeks she began to recognize it. It had a slightly different-shaped head, and the pattern on its wings was different from the usual generic angular pattern that mass-produced Iaconian security drones had. She noticed it again as she spoke to dockworkers at one of the potential drop points she’d been researching. Initially, they were hesitant to speak, but a few agreed to give her some time after she bought them breakfast sandwiches and drinks. 

“What did you say your name was again?” Ironjaw--one of the workers she’d been chatting with--reached for another sandwich. 

“Optimus. I just wanted to know if you’d seen anything odd going on around here.”

He squinted suspiciously at her. “You press?”

“No. Um, I’m actually an officer.” Ironjaw and the others immediately took a step back. “I promise I’m not after you for anything petty, I don’t care if you buy black market liquor or illegally download holo-films, I just want to know more about the mafia.”

“All right.” He sighed. “Look, I can’t tell you much. But I can say that about twice a month me and my crewmates get paid twice our usual salary to handle shipments that are definitely not on our roster.”

“What kind of shipments?”

“They’re all in crates so I don’t know. But I do know that about a year ago we went from doing this every two or three months to the rate we’re currently going at. And we’ve gone from only bringing things out to bringing them in too.” 

_ A year ago _ , Optimus thought. _ That’s when we started noticing increased levels of activity _ . _ It has to be connected. _

“Who are you doing shipments for?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t say anymore.” He looked around nervously, and Optimus felt a tug of guilt. 

“I don’t want to pressure you. You know that if you do want to talk, the Guard can provide you with protection.” 

Nightstrike, another worker, shook his head. “Not to contradict ya, Officer, but no one’s ever safe from the King.”

“So it _ is _Megatron.” 

He looked around furtively. “Listen, I--” 

“I understand.”

“It’s not just her.” Ironjaw bit his lip. “She’s only part of it--there’s also--” The color rapidly drained out of the dockworker’s faces. 

“What?”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Officer Friendly.” Optimus recognized the voice instantly. She felt a swooping sensation in her stomach and had to resist the urge to turn around. “Is she bothering you boys?”

“Not at all.” Nightstrike shook his head. “She was just...”

Optimus thought fast. “There was an accident nearby. I just wanted to know if there were any witnesses.” 

“Oh, that’s nice.” Starscream chuckled. “I appreciate your...devotion to your job. But I think you’ve distracted them long enough, hm?”

“It was nice to meet you, officer.” Ironjaw smiled nervously, and Optimus took the hint. 

“Of course. Thank you for your time.” She shook both their hands, and then on an impulse, she held out her hand to Starscream, who smiled and shook it, running a finger over her palm. Optimus felt a shiver run down her spine. She engaged her battlemask, hoping to put herself back on something like equal footing. It didn’t help. Starscream was still watching her as she walked away, she could feel it. 

A side effect of spending so much of her free time on unofficial reconnaissance sessions meant that she slept in her car on most nights. It probably wasn’t good for her health, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

The night after her run-in with Starscream she parked across the street from the silent dock and turned off her car lights, activating her datapad at the lowest setting. She’d been reading about the history of Vos Air Command, trying to pinpoint the exact time the independent city-state had gotten involved with the Cybertronian mob. It seemed obvious that the two were connected on the surface--they weren’t hiding it that night when she’d seen them together-- but finding actual proof that Ultra Magnus couldn’t ignore was proving more difficult than she thought.

Her head hit the tablet and she jerked back, trying to keep her eyes open. There were four hours until she needed to go to work. She zoomed in on a blueprint of one of the skyscrapers commissioned by Starscream when the company had first moved into the city. It was tall, elegant, the kind of architecture that was always used for reports on Vos. Optimus had never been, but she knew the city-state was fabulously wealthy--the reason it was able to maintain its independence. Her head hit the tablet again and she reluctantly leaned her seat back, pulling her jacket over her face.

_ Fifteen minutes. I’ll sleep for fifteen minutes. _

She stared at the velvety black inside of the jacket and squeezed her eyes shut. Her muscles ached and she hadn’t slept all day but she couldn’t seem to turn her brain off. Optimus rolled over and tucked her knees into her chest. Maybe Megatron had travelled to Vos for a business trip when she met Starscream? She’d found a few news articles that connected the two of them but nothing solid. So why would they feel so comfortable confronting her together, when they were so obviously together? And they were obviously together. She thought again of Megatron’s hand on Starscream’s back, an effortless gesture, like she hadn’t even realized she was doing it, like it was obvious that the smaller woman was _ hers _. And Starscream had reached up to touch Megatron’s face after she kissed her, the oddly tender gesture contrasting oddly with her wicked smile.

And then Starscream turned to look at her. “Why don’t you ask, darling? We’d tell you.”

Optimus started. She was in the warehouse again, her hands tied behind her back, but her teammates weren’t there. Neither were the other mafia soldiers or Lockdown. It was just the three of them. Starscream walked towards her, and Optimus felt frozen as she found the catch on her battlemask and it folded back. “There you are.” Behind her, Megatron smirked. Optimus wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but she knew she was completely exposed, and they would know what she was thinking, they would _ see _. 

She didn’t actually remember the moment where she had slipped into sleep but suddenly she was jolting awake, her face hot. It was bright outside and she grabbed for her communication cuff in a panic to check the time. She wasn’t late. Yet. Optimus tried semi-successfully to tie her hair back, hoping to keep the worst of it out of her face, and threw her sweater and the blanket into the passenger seat. 

Wait. _ The blanket? _

She turned her car back off and looked at the blanket that was crumbled in the seat next to her. It was thick and purple and soft, and extremely expensive-looking. The kind of thing she definitely wouldn’t have bought for herself.

“What the hell?” She pulled it back into her lap and tried to get a good look at it without accidentally hitting any buttons, but learned nothing except that it smelled faintly like jasmine. 

_ Who the hell would buy me a blanket? _ she thought. _ And how’d they get into my car? _

There was a moment of blinding panic and rifling through her bag, but her wallet, key fob and identity card were still where she’d shoved them last night. She wondered for a moment if it could have been Ratchet or Bulkhead, but she couldn’t imagine that anyone on her team would find her car and cover her with a blanket instead of just waking her up and telling her to go home. 

After another few confused minutes Optimus decided to fold up the blanket and gingerly place it in the backseat. She couldn’t be late to work, blanket notwithstanding.

She didn’t see it, but another observer might have noticed that the oddly colored drone was watching the car as it drove away.

* * *

She got to the traffic office just five minutes before her team was getting ready to leave.

“You’re late.” Ratchet looked her up and down. “And out of breath.” 

“Everything’s fine.” Optimus grabbed her traffic kit and uniform vest and hat. “Let’s just head out before--”

“Optimus!” Sentinel stalked into the room with a datapad in his hand. “What the _ hell _ is this?”

“Um.” Optimus buckled her kit around her waist. “It’s my weekly report.”

“I know what it is, what the hell is this line about ‘suspected mafia activity?”

“Well, according to data from Kaon, Nova Cronom, and Tyrest, it’s common for Megatron’s to collaborate with the city’s transportation infrastructure and that can lead to traffic patterns shifting.”

Sentinel took a step closer to her, his hands on his hips. “How many times do you have to be told that there is no mafia activity in Iacon?”

“I just think that it’s necessary to examine all possible angles. Isn’t that what we do? We look into everything?”

Sentinel threw the datapad on the table. It cracked. “We maintain _ peace _ in Iacon! And to do that there can’t be information on the city record indicating silly lies like ‘suspected mafia activity!’”

“I just thought--”

“No. You didn’t think. You _ never _think.” He pointed angrily at her.

“Hey.” Ratchet cleared her throat and stepped between them. “You’ve made your point.”

Sentinel glared at her. “Who do you think you are, medic?”

“Who do you think _ you _ are? What kind of Elite Guard member behaves like a tantruming brat?”

Optimus grabbed her friend’s arm. “Ratchet, drop it.”

“Why? What gives him the right to talk to you like that?”

“Enough!” Sentinel grabbed the cracked datapad off the table and snapped it in half. “Optimus, have the rewritten one on my desk by tomorrow.” He stalked out of the room. Ratchet turned to Optimus incredulously. 

“Listen, you need to report him.”

“To who?” Optimus shrugged. “He’s the highest ranking member of the Elite Guard at the moment and I’m in Magnus’s bad books because I was an idiot. Let’s just go, okay?”

“He’s an asshole.” Bumblebee piped up from where he was perched on the table. 

“He might be, but for the time being there isn’t anything we can do about it. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I worry I'm writing Sentinel as too much of an asshole and then I watch an episode of tfa and go oh, never mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus has two baffling interactions and figures out where the mystery blanket came from

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Spinner" means flying car, and I shamelessly lifted the idea from Blade Runner.

Their little traffic monitor followed the shiny gold spinner, which was going roughly thirty marks over the speed limit. 

Prowl leaned over Optimus’s shoulder with what a scanner. “Drive faster, I can’t get her licence plate in focus.”

“Prowl, this is a government-issued vehicle, it can only go so fast.”

“I can go faster.” Bumblebee spoke up from where he was sandwiched between Prowl and Bulkhead. “Boss, just let me--”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“I don’t care how good your rocket mods are. If they fail you could die. You stay in the car.”

The gold spinner suddenly swerved and plummeted from level three to level one on the road, nearly knocking several other spinners off the road. 

“Oh, okay, it’s gonna be like that.” Optimus gripped the steering wheel. “Hang on everyone.” She activated the emergency sirens and thrusters and navigated the monitor off the elevated freeway. Bumblebee shrieked as they plummeted, which Optimus felt was a somewhat unfair characterization of her navigating skills. They landed with only a slight jolt, after all. 

The gold spinner had skidded off the street. Optimus brought the little traffic monitor to a halt next to it. “Okay, get the breathalyzer.”

“Hello there!” The driver stepped out of the spinner, smiling cheerfully. Optimus thought for a moment that she was Starscream--she had similar high cheekbones and dark skin--but her wings were a bright gold, her hair was gathered into hundreds of tiny braids and she had intricate gold tattoos on half of her face. The kind of mod that took months to perfect. So she couldn’t be Starscream. “Esteemed officers! I am honored to be in your noble presence.”

Optimus looked at Prowl, who was scanning the spinner. “See what you can find out.”

“On it.” 

“I would be happy to provide you with information. I have the greatest respect for your office--”

“Hold it!” Another spinner pulled up and someone else jumped out. They also had dark skin and wing mods--teal with purple accents. Their hair was scraped back in a bun. “I’m Sunstorm’s lawyer. Anything she said before I arrived is inadmissible, do you hear me?”

“Slipstream, I’m talking to my new friends!”

“They’re not your friends, they’re the law, and you can’t trust them. Come on, we’re going.”

“Not so fast.” Optimus cleared her throat. “Sunstorm, I need you to exhale into this tube. We have reason to believe you were driving under the influence of intoxicants.”

Slipstream made an outraged noise. ”This is _ outrageous!_ I demand to speak to your supervisor!”

“Listen, we’re the traffic force. Unless you want to spend an hour in the administrative office--”

“Optimus.” Prowl held up the scanner. “I think this car might have been coming from the docks.” 

“Really?” Optimus squinted at it. This could mean an actual lead.

“Yes. Additionally, it looks like it has some files on illicit activity. I believe we should--”

Ratchet cut in. “Duck, idiot!”

Optimus spun around just in time to see what at first looked like a drone divebombing her. It happened so quickly that she didn’t realize it had snatched the scanner out of her hand until a second later. 

“Hey!” She snapped out one of her grapples, but missed by a mile. “I think I know him!” It was whatever had been following her these past few weeks, she was sure. Her teammates gave her an odd look. “Okay, never mind. Ratchet, can you--”

Ratchet nodded. “Already on it. Go.”

“Bulkhead, with me.” The nearest building had a fire escape, but the ladder was far out of both of their reach. She looked over at Bulkhead. “Can you boost me?”

“You got it, boss.” Bulkhead crouched and laced her fingers together. Optimus stepped into them. “Get ready!”  
She launched Optimus into the air and Optimus caught the third rung on the ladder, hooking her arm around it and deploying her grapple. It wrenched her up nearly to the top of the ladder, nearly dislocating her arm but she’d worry about the pain later because she was going to catch the drone, and recover the best lead they’d had in weeks. Adrenaline brought her up the last few rungs and onto the roof, ready to deploy another grapple.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Optimus whipped around in shock. Megatron smirked at her. “Officer. Nice to see you again.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” She snapped out her grapples, hoping to at least temporarily take her out of commission so she could call for backup. Megatron easily caught the cords in one hand, twisting, and suddenly Optimus’s arms were pinned to her sides and she was being yanked forward. Her face rapidly heated up as she looked up into Megatron’s amused eyes.

“What do you want?”

Megatron chuckled. “At the moment?” She snapped her fingers and the drone fluttered down to land on her shoulder, dropping the cuff into her hand. “Ratbat and I want to take the information my idiot wife let get out and go home. This--” Megatron tightened her grip on the grapples and Optimus sternly ordered herself not to look at how the muscles on her arms stood out. It didn’t work. “--is just an added bonus.”

Optimus glared at her. “You might _ think _that you’ve won, Megatron, but someday soon you’re going to have to face the consequences for your--”

“All right, officer.” Megatron patted her cheek, and Optimus felt the same embarrassing warm feeling she’d felt weeks ago in the warehouse. And over and over again since, when she woke up in the middle of the night thinking of Megatron’s hand on Starscream’s cheek, Starscream stroking her palm with a smirk on her face. “I do need to get going, but if you’d like to self-righteously scold me sometime soon, name the time and place.” 

“You--” Her thoughts cut off as Megatron reached around her, drawing the ends of her grapple together and tying what looked like a bow. 

“I’ll be seeing you, officer.” She strode over to a chimney and knocked twice on it. A ripple passed over it and suddenly it was a silver spinner. _ A holographic disguise_, some distant part of Optimus’s mind informed her. Megatron winked at Optimus, and then she was gone. 

* * *

Optimus unlocked her apartment door, threw her work bag on the old couch she’d bought on discount, and poured herself a drink. Maybe she’d call Bulkhead and ask her what she was watching tonight, Optimus thought. She always had good movie recommendations. Then she pushed her bedroom door open and her thoughts scattered because there was someone in her bed. 

More specifically, Starscream was in her bed. She was curled up on her side, with her wing mods hanging off the bed. A charcoal grey blazer was thrown over the chair next to the bed, and near the chair were two elegant pink high-heeled shoes. 

Optimus dropped her drink with a clatter and Starscream’s eyes popped open. She vaulted out of the bed with a scream, grabbing what looked like a null ray off her chair and lunging forward. Optimus scrambled back into her kitchen, snatching one of her grapples off the counter and snapping it forward to disarm her unwelcome houseguest. Starscream glared at her, looking more offended than anything else.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Watch it?” Optimus sputtered. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Well, I _ was _ sleeping, but then you decided to show up. Why’d you have to go and do that?”

“I _ live _here.”

“Well, you’re not here on most nights. Out doing surveillance, I assume?” 

Optimus ignored that, fumbling for her comunicuff. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

“Why on earth not?”

Starscream shrugged. “I can give you a bunch of reasons. Because as soon as you press the button, I’ll be out of here. And I _ will _ be out of here, regardless of those.” She gestured at the grapples. “As nice as they are. Ultra Magnus is probably not going to be too thrilled about your calling him-- he disapproves of your focus on trying to take on organized crime when you were assigned to direct traffic. He’s already on the fence about why he went against the advice of his colleagues and hired an academy washout. And wow--” She laughed. “Sentinal Prime fucking _ hates _you. So he’d probably use this to try and get rid of you--”

“You’ve made your point.” Optimus felt like she’d been hit across the face with a two-by-four. She’d wondered sometimes during her late nights of research, how Starscream was the second-in-command for a criminal organization that so often relied on brute force, but she wasn’t wondering anymore. There was something oddly satisfying about hearing all the ugly things that had been invisible laid out in front of her. “That might be true. But it’s still my responsibility to turn you in.”

Starscream examined her neatly polished nails. “You could. Or...I give you some information to help your career, and you let me sleep at your house, and we part as unlikely friends.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My darling wife and I are currently having...differences. Differences that mean that it is not in my best interest for her current mission to succeed.”

A laugh burst out of Optimus’s mouth before she could stop herself. It had been too much of a day, even before this. “You’d sell out your wife over a domestic dispute?”

Starscream crossed her arms angrily, her smooth exterior slipping. “It’s hardly a domestic dispute! She went over my head! Betrayed our partnership! Years, we’ve been together and she still treats me like--” She cleared her throat. “Ah, I see, the whole ‘joke so the other person angrily corrects you and spills information’ trick. Clever. But it won’t work on me.”

Optimus sighed, deciding not to point out that it clearly had. Her head was throbbing and her whole body ached--she was fucking _ tired_. “I’m not going to do a quid pro quo with a criminal.”

“You haven’t actually convicted me of anything.”

“I could get you for breaking and entering.” 

“I suppose you could. Or, you could strike a blow at my wife’s criminal empire, impress your boss, _ and _ get a ship full of smuggled goods back where they belong.”

Optimus sank down at her kitchen table, burying her face in her hands. For a moment she thought she was going to cry and then she realized she was laughing.

“Um, Officer Friendly?” Optimus held up her hand as if to say “just a minute,” before realizing she didn’t need to be polite to someone who had broken into her house. It wasn’t like there was anything about the situation that was particularly funny--okay, it _ was _ kind of funny that one of the mafia leaders had broken into her house but not enough to elicit the shaky, gasping laughter that had possessed her like some kind of alien virus.

Someone--Starscream’s--hand was on her shoulder. She flinched, and Starscream pulled away. “Is this normal for you?”

Optimus managed to collect herself. “I don’t know, is breaking and entering normal for you?”

“Yes.” Starscream said flatly, and the matter-of-factness of her tone made Optimus lose it again, and this time she heard Starscream join her, pulling back the other kitchen chair, which screeched on the tiles, and sinking into it. Her laugh was high-pitched and almost spiky sounding, but Optimus found that she liked it. 

“Fair enough, I suppose. No, I don’t normally um, lose it like this, I guess it’s just been...a day.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“And I guess it’s funny that you think I’d ever be capable of impressing my boss.”

“Really? With all the initiative you take?”

Optimus sighed. “You have to know Iacon better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” Starscream admitted with a laugh. “I just wanted to know what you’d say about them. They’re _ terrible_, aren’t they?”

“I’m not going to talk about my supervisors. And...” Optimus rubbed her temples. “I’m not taking a bribe. But if you want to crash here for the night, I won’t stop you.”

“Fine.” Starscream smiled, and Optimus was struck by how genuinely pretty it was. “Here you go, if you change your mind.” She pulled a datapad out of her stylish black purse, tossing it on Optimus’s battered side table. 

Optimus ignored it. “All right. Stay out of my fridge.”

Starscream nodded. “Sure. I’ll turn in, then. Unless...” She reached out and squeezed Optimus’s arm. “Are you interested in anything else?”

Heat shot through Optimus, radiating out from where Starscream’s hand. She fought the urge to jump back, instead swatting Starscream’s arm away. “Aren’t you, you know,_ married_?”

Starscream laughed, the same bright cackle that reminded her of when she’d first seen her, standing behind Megatron that night that she kept having dreams about. “Megatron and I have a more complicated relationship than that, darling.”

“I’m not _ sleeping _ with a criminal!”

“All right, you’re not down for it, you can’t blame me for asking. I mean you’re very--” She gestured at Optimus. “You know. Anyway, I’m going to bed.”

She was back in Optimus’s bedroom before Optimus could say anything, and it took Optimus a full five minutes to realize what the problem was with that. 

She stomped around her living room for a minute and then decided she’d take a (cold) shower before telling one of the most dangerous criminals in the city to sleep on the couch. 

After her shower, Optimus reasoned herself into watering her plants, and then setting up the coffee maker for the next day and putting her dirty clothes in the wash. When she’d finally run out of stupid chores to do, she just stood in front of her bedroom door, glaring at the cheap paneling. 

This was ridiculous. It was _ her _ apartment after all. Starscream was in _ her _ bed. So she was going to take it back. If a mafia leader was going to sleep in her house, she was _ at least _going to do it on Optimus’s couch. She pushed the door open.

“Starscream, I must insist--”

“Hey.” Starscream was sprawled out on her bed, wearing only her high heels. “Changed your mind?”

Her wings unfolded, arching up towards the ceiling and nearly knocking Optimus’s lamp off the side table. She was watching Optimus with hungry eyes. Optimus cleared her throat. “I—um—I should...”

“You want the bed back, don’t you?” She sat forward a little bit, and Optimus tried not to look at her chest. Or her legs. Or her mouth.

“I was going to ask--”

“Why don’t we share?” She smiled again, and Optimus took a step back, bumping into her doorframe.

“That--um--that might not be a good idea.”

“Sometimes things aren’t good ideas. That doesn’t mean they’re not fun. When was the last time you had _ fun,_ officer?”

“Okay.” Optimus tried to gather her thoughts. “Definitely don’t call me that right now.”

“Do you have a preference? I’m flexible. In more ways than one.”

Optimus started walking towards the bed, feeling oddly giddy, as if she was about to do something both thrilling and stupid. Which, she supposed, as Starscream pulled her down for a kiss, was exactly what she _ was _ doing. 

The next morning Optimus woke up in an empty bed that smelled like jasmine. The same way that the blanket in her hall closet smelled. She sat up, pressing the pillow to her face. Yes, it was definitely the same smell. Her communicuff, abandoned on her desk, buzzed, and she grabbed for it. “Optimus!”

“Ratchet? What’s wrong?”

“Someone called in a tip for you about possible mafia activity? They said I should make sure you knew about it.” 

The pieces came together. _They're gifts. First the blanket, now an anonymous tip. _Optimus let her head fall back on the pillow with a groan. _ What the fuck have I gotten myself into? _

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Starscream had said the night before, as Optimus knelt between her legs. _ "_You won’t break me.” 

“I know.” Optimus said. “I just...I want to savor this.” Starscream had rolled her eyes, but Optimus could swear that she had blushed.

“Optimus, are you there?” She sat up so abruptly she almost whacked her head on the wall, remembering that Ratchet was still on the line.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll be in soon, don’t worry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream breaks into your house ASMR  
(side note, I was listening to "Bad Idea" from Waitress while I wrote this)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things at work get more complicated, and Starscream helps. Kind of.

“We need to stop doing this.” Optimus absently stroked between Starscream’s wings.

“That’s not the first time you’ve said that, darling.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.” Starscream leaned up and kissed her, and then sat up, swinging her legs off the bed and reaching for her high heels. Optimus let herself lie in bed for another moment before she also sat up and started getting dressed. 

It had been two weeks since Starscream had crashed at her apartment for the first time. The tip that she’d called in had successfully gotten Optimus back into Ultra Magnus’s good graces. But whatever domestic problems Megatron and Starscream were having had continued. A few days after the shipping had been successfully halted, there had been another high-speed car chase and three different shipment vehicles disappeared without a trace. Sentinel, furious that Optimus had restored her standing with Ultra Magnus, told her it was just an ordinary traffic problem and it was her job to handle it. 

“We’re having some...difficulties,” Starscream said that night as she ate the last of Optimus’s dinner. “My wife can be unreasonable.” 

“Are you saying it’s you two doing this?”

Starscream looked offended. “Who else do you think it would be? For what it’s worth, I would never have gotten involved in a car chase, but she decided to escalate things.”

It soon became clear to the Iaconian press that the ongoing accidents, explosions, and large-scale traffic jams were not, in fact, “unfortunate coincidences,” and Optimus found herself uncomfortably denying requests from reporters. Ultra Magnus continued to refuse to discuss mafia involvement in the city, and worse still, stonewall her requests for funding, so the entire traffic team had done hours of unpaid overtime and their little monitor spinner was on its last legs. 

Starscream’s voice pulled her back to reality. “Officer Friendly, where’s my lighter?”

“Here.” Optimus held it up. “I’ve told you before, you can’t smoke in my apartment.”

“Give it back!” Starscream lunged across the bed at her and the two of them engaged in a brief scuffle that ended with their clothes discarded again and both of them sprawled out on the bed. 

“So.” Starscream lit a cigarette. “Same time tonight?” 

Optimus turned her head on the pillow. “Can’t you afford a hotel?”

“I can.” She blew a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling, and then rolled her eyes and put the cigarette out when Optimus glared at her. “I don’t want to.”

* * *

“Optimus!” Bumblebee ran up to her as she walked into the tiny office reserved for traffic.

“Hey, Bee. How was your weekend?”

“Oof, you wouldn’t believe it. Blurr and I were playing _ Ultimate Sword of Final Destiny_, the new holo-game that we saved up for? And anyway I was kicking her ass, and then all of a sudden she just--”

“You have the new holo-game?” Bulkhead looked up from her coffee. 

“Yeah! If you bring dinner tonight, I’ll let you play it.”

“You’re making me pay to play it?”

“I’m a businessman. Blurr brought me snacks too.”

“You’re an asshole”

“_You’re _an asshole!”

Ratchet made a noise almost sounded like a laugh, and Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Optimus stared at her in shock. “What?”

“Usually this is where you’d yell at us to shut up.” Bulkhead said.

“And then go on about how we’re the noisier than two scraplets caught in your apartment pipes.”

Ratchet scowled. “Well, I _ was _ in a good mood this morning but you two have successfully killed it. I hope you’re happy.” 

Prowl cleared her throat. “Does anyone want the last of this coffee?” Optimus raised her hand. “Optimus, what’s our agenda for the day?”

“Um--” Optimus pulled her datapad out of her bag and swiped to unlock it. “Okay, so I mapped out the places where there have been a high density of accidents in the past few weeks, so I want us to keep an eye out there. And Ratchet, I want you to reach out to that family we spoke to last week and let them know that they can get financial compensation for their spinner?”

“All right, Optimus. What’s our patrol route?”

“I just sent it out. Let me know if you have any suggestions, I was thinking--”

There was a knock on the doorframe. “Optimus?” She turned to see Jazz leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in the Elite Guard office.”

Optimus’s stomach dropped. “Why?” 

“Sentinel just wanted to see how you were doing with the new traffic ticket quota.”

Optimus sighed, and then quickly plastered on a smile. “All right.”

Jazz glanced over at her as they walked down the hallway. ”You know, I get it.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m not from Iacon either.” She paused, and then shrugged, as if deciding to keep going. “I’m from Staniz. Shipbuilding central. And I have a nasty tendency to get seasick.” Optimus half-laughed, and Jazz smiled at her. “Yeah, I know. Anyway, I wanted more. My ma saved up to send me to the Elite Academy. I’m still paying off the loans I took out. But I graduated. Top of my class. And still, the way Sentinel looks at me? It’s like he thinks I just--” She waved her hand. “--wandered in. You’ve gotten that look too, right? The ‘hey, are you lost,’ look?” 

Optimus stopped walking and looked at Jazz. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re not the only one Sentinel is awful to. He has it out for you, I don’t know why, but I just want you to know you’re not crazy. And...I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“It’s not your job to make Sentinel act human.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not your job to be his punching bag.” She stopped at the office door. “I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

“All right.” Jazz turned to walk back to her office and Optimus cleared her throat.

“Jazz, I--um, thank you.” 

Jazz grinned at her, but there was a hint of sadness behind it. “No problem.”

* * *

“I don’t understand why you’re incapable of following the standards we so clearly lay out for you, Optimus.” Optimus bit the inside of her cheek and said nothing. Sentinel kept pacing around his office. “We need to have a certain level of tickets every month so we can _ pay _ for your dead weight department’s continued existence.” 

Optimus forced her voice to remain level. “I understand, Sentinel. I just don’t--this model is exploitative and doesn’t actually align at all with the best methods of enforcing traffic violations in Iacon. I think we can do better.”

Sentinel laughed. “Your job isn’t to _ think_, it’s to do what we tell you to do.”

“Really?” Optimus’s jaw throbbed from how hard she’d been clenching it. “Because I feel like it’s your job to listen to the feedback you’re getting from the people who work for you.”

Sentinel’s expression grew even more furious, if that was possible. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

He pointed a finger in her face, nearly poking out her eye. She wished she could deploy her mask. “Optimus, you don’t get to tell me what to do. Ever.” 

“Listen, Sentinel, we learned at the academy that leadership is about supporting the people on your team, not constantly putting them down, and you seem to have forgotten that..”

“Oh, you want to bring up the academy, do you? Because you were _ such _a success there.” 

Optimus’s face burned. “Sentinel--”

“No, really, I’m curious about what part of your academy experience makes you qualified to go on about _ leadership_. Was it your inability to manage the training simulators? Or was it your crowning achievement, getting one of your partners killed?” Optimus swallowed hard. Her eyes felt hot and prickly. “Go on, tell me. What gives you the _ audacity _ to give me leadership advice, Optimus?”

Optimus pushed herself to her feet. “I don’t know, okay?” Sentinel took a step back, like he hadn’t expected her to respond. She never had before. “I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know why Ultra Magnus gave me a job, and I don’t know where I get the ‘audacity.’ But I know that no one deserves to be treated like this. So until you can get through a meeting treating me like a person, you can take your traffic quotas and shove them up your ass.” 

She pivoted on her heel and stalked out of the office before Sentinel could respond. 

* * *

Optimus’s only thought for the rest of the day was _ this is bad_. Ratchet and Prowl asked her if she was okay multiple times, so she suspected she looked like death, but she pretended that it had just been a normal meeting with Sentinel. Yes, he was an asshole, yes the traffic ticket quota was ridiculous, and yes, she was fine. 

“Go home.” Prowl said an hour before they were supposed to head back to their office. “Get some sleep. I’ll cover the rest of today.”

People kept telling her to get some sleep. Did she really look that tired? “You really don’t have to--”

“Get out of here.” Ratchet glanced over from where she was helping a young couple with paperwork. 

Optimus didn’t remember most of the ride back to her apartment. The large transport spinner hummed, and it was like she could hear the engine chanting over and over again _ this is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad_. She shouldn’t have lost her temper--what was she _ thinking_, seriously. It wasn’t just her job on the line because of her petty outburst, Sentinel would probably fire her entire team because she was so _ stupid_. She’d lashed out like that wasn’t exactly what Sentinel wanted, like that wasn’t what he’d been looking for--an excuse to fire her, a reason she was the pathetic failure he kept saying she was. And she was stupid to keep thinking she could somehow fix their irreccovacably broken friendship.

She pushed open the door to her apartment.

“You’re here early.” Starscream was sitting on the couch, watching an old holo-film on television. She was eating what looked like one of the breakfast pastries that Optimus had bought for tomorrow. 

“How did you--”

“Find the pastries? You’re not good at hiding them.”

“That wasn’t what I--” Optimus sighed. 

“What’s up with you?”

“Why are you here?” The words came out more viciously than she intended. Starscream stared at her.

“What?”

“Why are you even here?” She was practically shouting. “You could be in a luxury hotel, you could be in _ Vos_, for fuck’s sake. Why are you in my apartment?”

“Optimus, I--”

“I just--I don’t understand why you keep coming back here.”

Starscream sneered at her. “Do you want me to stop coming here?”

“What? I don’t--”

“I feel like it should be pretty obvious why I’m here.”

“So is it just about the sex?”

“Would it matter if it was?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know anything about you, Starscream.”

“You’ve been researching me for months.”

“That’s not what I mean. Why are you--like this? Why are you in the mafia? Why are you married to a woman you’re trying to destroy? And why the fuck do you want anything to do with me?”

Starscream took a step back. “Wow.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Those are some pretty tough questions.”

Optimus sat down on her bed. “Fine. We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.” 

Starscream sat down next to her, nudging her backwards and draping her legs over her lap. “Pick one.”

“What?”

“You asked me like, ten questions. Pick one, and I’ll answer it.”

“Okay.” Optimus stroked one of her wings, watching it twitch up into her hand. “Um, why do you want anything to do with me?”

Starscream shrugged. “You’re good-looking.” 

Optimus snorted.

“Don’t snort at me! I’m being honest. You have good arms and an _ excellent _ mouth.”

“And that’s it?” 

“Well...” Starscream looked away. 

Optimus took her hand off her wing, shifting Starscream off her lap. “You said you’d give me a straight answer.” 

“Fine.” Starscream grabbed her arm. “I like you. There’s something about how much you...care. It’s endearing.”

Optimus covered her mouth to hide a smile. “That’s why?”

“Yeah.” Starscream smirked at her. “Anyway, my turn.”

“Hold on, what?”

“You got to ask a question. Now I get to ask a question. Why did you want to be in the Elite Guard, Optimus?”

“I don’t really--” She cleared her throat. “Well, fine. You’re going to laugh but I wanted to help people.”

“And now you give people speeding tickets.”

“I thought I could improve law enforcement in the city and protect people and--”

“And...”

“I don’t know why you’re interested in this.”

“Okay, I’ll be the one to say it. You had the highest entry level scores in your school. And Ultra Magnus put you on the traffic beat.”

“That wasn’t her fault.”

Starscream sighed, disapproving. “Really?”

Optimus cleared her throat, squeezing her eyes shut. She remembered the gut-wrenching moment when her grapple went slack and she knew Elita was gone, her scanner beeping a negative at her, Sentinel screaming at her to go back, “You clearly read my file, so stop jerking me around and tell me why you brought this up.”

“I did read your file. So did Megatron. Neither of us understand why you were blamed for your partner’s death when you clearly did what anyone else would have done in that situation.”

“You weren’t there.” 

“So? I know how these kinds of situations play out. It makes no sense that you got punished for your decision when--”

“You don’t know _ anything_.” Optimus swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. 

Starscream pouted. “Well, you’re wrong about that. And you’re wrong about it being your fault.”

Optimus couldn’t look at her. “What’s the point of bringing this up? Is this some kind of sadistic ‘break them by talking’ crap?”

“No, I just think you need to stop assuming everything is your fault.”

“I don’t do that!” 

“You absolutely do!” She made air quotes with her hands and lowered her voice several octaves. “I’m Optimus. I’m good at my job, but my boss treats me like garbage! It must be because I’m secretly a terrible person. Poor me.”

Optimus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended. “I don’t sound like that!”

“I beg to differ.”

“Fine. My turn to ask a question. Why are you still married to Megatron if you two are constantly fighting? What’s the appeal?”

Starscream laughed. “Oh, you can’t be that naive.” 

Optimus remembered how easily Megatron had wrapped her grapples around her, the way her eyes had crinkled when she smirked. “Okay, she’s good-looking.”

“And you’ve thought about that, haven’t you?”

“Give me another reason. One that actually has weight behind it.” 

“Fine.” Starscream glared at her. “She took me seriously. Before anyone else did. There. Now I get to ask you one.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.” 

“Too bad. My question is: are you curious? About what Megatron’s like?”

Optimus scrambled off the bed. “What?”

“Come on, I saw you looking at us that night in the warehouse.” Starscream pulled off her jacket and tossed it aside, smirking like she could feel Optimus’s eyes on her bare arms and shoulders. “I don’t think the attraction there is one-sided.” She shrugged, feigning indifference. “You’re the only one she finds almost as annoying as me.”

“You’re being very immature.” 

“She’s good. But you probably suspected that.” She stood up, her wings arching up to the low ceiling. 

“Starscream...”

“You know, one time she pinned me down on the hood of one of your patrol cars and fucked me there.” Optimus inhaled sharply, ordering herself not to turn around and look at Starscream. “Such _ disrespect _ for the law, I know. It’s shameful. But we didn’t care.” She rubbed Optimus’s shoulders, gently tracing a pattern on her throat. “She knew exactly where to touch me. I’m surprised your scanner didn’t pick up on it because she made me beg her for it, she made me _ scream _\--”

Optimus spun around and grabbed Starscream’s wings, pulling her in for a kiss, biting her lip, and Starscream _ moaned_, arching into it and wrapping her arms around her neck. They fell back onto the bed and rolled over and over and over until they were on the floor, wrapped in the old duvet. 

“You might be a saint,” Starscream said, straddling her, “but you sure as hell don’t kiss like one.”

Optimus stared up at her. “Tell me more.”

Starscream kissed her, long and slow, and then pulled off her pink sleeveless blouse. “Ask nicely.” Oprimus reached up to stroke her waist, run her hands over Starscream’s flawless dark skin, and Starscream gasped, shivering like Optimus had caught her off guard. “Oh!”

“Is that nice enough for you?”

“You fucking--” Optimus reached up and pinched her nipple and Starscream threw her head back. “Okay, you’re curious? Well, she likes to tease. Draw it out--” Optimus bucked her hips up. “Fucking _ hell_\--she’s _ merciless_, she knows what you want before you do and she makes you _ beg _ for it and--and--” Optimus squeezed her hips encouragingly, making her gasp. 

“Don’t stop.”

“Fuck you.” Starscream kissed her again, fiercely, cupping her face in one of her hands and undoing the buttons on Optimus’s uniform pants. Optimus shuddered, gasping out Starscream’s name and Starscream hummed, satisfied. “I can tease too, you know. And I’m quite good at it.” 

“Starscream--” Starscream nipped at her throat, sharp and vicious and _ perfect_, and she moaned, an embarrassing, needy sound. “I--I need--”

“I know,” Starscream pressed her face into the hollow of Optimus’s throat, and for a moment her voice wasn’t teasing or sardonic, it was raw. “Optimus.”

Optimus wrapped her arms around her, pulling her closer, and they were lost together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megatron is going to make an appearance in this eventually, I swear, I just really loved writing StarOp and it got out of hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus avoids questions from her team and then gets kidnapped.* Things only escalate from there.
> 
> *as is defined by the legal standard set forth in the Iaconian Legal Code, 37th edition

Optimus’s team was waiting outside for her when she arrived at work. “Morning, all. Good to see you’re ready to go. I’m just going to get a cup of coffee--” She tried to walk by them to get inside, and Bulkhead grabbed her arm and spun her around. 

“Sorry, boss.”

“What in the name of--”

“Look.” Prowl crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you said to Sentinel but he’s out for blood, okay? So for the time being, you’re gonna stay out of his vicinity.”

“I don’t need to be protected.” 

“Well, too bad.” Ratchet glared at her. You’re not going in there. And before you argue, think about what you would do if it was any of us.”

Optimus tried to hold on to her irritation. “You know that I technically outrank you.”

Ratchet looked unperturbed. “Really? Okay, try to get by me.”

Optimus sighed. “Okay fine. We’ll go straight out to patrol, but I’m not going to be permanently kept out of the building where I work.”

“You don’t even _ like _ being in the building,” Bumblebee interjected. “You said it made your skin crawl.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” Prowl was irritatingly calm as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“I shouldn’t--You guys shouldn’t have to worry about hiding me from our supervisor.”

“Wow.” Ratchet deadpanned. “It’s almost like this is a deeply dysfunctional work environment.” 

* * *

Prowl and Ratchet had tracked a number of unpaid speeding tickets to a junkyard, where they found a pile of abandoned spinners.

“Nice work, Prowl.” Optimus looked the pile over. “Okay, Bulkhead, Ratchet, you two scan the left section, Bee and I will scan the right, and Prowl will cross-reference our entries to make sure we didn’t miss anything. 

Prowl nodded. “Got it.”

Optimus and Bumblebee walked further into the junkyard, nearly tripping over some of the larger pieces of discarded metal. 

“So...” Bumblebee looked over at her. “What’s their name?”

Optimus nearly dropped her scanner. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Whoever it is you’ve been, you know...” Bumblebee made a lewd gesture. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and this is _ not _ a workplace appropriate discussion.” Optimus scanned a bright blue spinner with peeling paint.

“We’re not _ in _ the workplace, and I’ve been dying to know! Is it someone else from work?”

“No!” Optimus was glad she could at least answer that honestly.

Bumblebee looked triumphant. “So there _ is _ someone?”

Optimus smacked her forehead. _ I can’t believe I fell for that_. “There is no one. I’m married to the job, Bumblebee, you know that.”

“Come on, tell me _ something_!” 

“We’re supposed to be working.” 

“Did you meet them on the job? Oh! Is it that handsome dad who we jumpstarted the spinner for last week?”

“No.” 

“Is it the university student who was speeding?”

“No.”

“Is it--”

“Look, Bumblebee, I’m not going to go through every single person we’ve met in the past few weeks. Who I see in my private time is none of your business.” 

Bumblebee gave her an odd look. “Okay, is it someone weird?” Optimus sighed. “Because if it’s someone weird, I’m not gonna judge you. I mean I am, but come on! It can’t be any worse than who Prowl was fucking.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, you didn’t know?” Bumblebee burst out laughing. “Okay, so you know Lockdown--the scummy bounty hunter who sold us out to Megatron and Starscream?”

Optimus felt like the temperature had suddenly risen ten degrees. She was suddenly overcome with a coughing fit. Bumblebee pounded her on the back. 

“Are you okay?’

“Yes, sorry.” She quickly deployed her mask. “Look, I’m gonna go check out the other team, all right?

“Wait, come back! You can’t just leave me hanging like this, come on!” 

* * *

After waiting fifteen minutes for the transport shuttle home, Optimus decided to just forget it. The air quality was decent and it would probably take a shorter amount of time to walk.

She was so caught up in her head that she didn’t notice the elegant silver spinner pull up next to her until she turned down her nearly deserted street and the spinner followed her. Optimus turned to look at it. It had a roof, and mirrored windows. Her reflection looked tired and drawn. She reached in her pocket for her badge, and her reflected double did the same.

The spinner door slid open before she could take it out. “Get in the car, officer.” She recognized the voice instantly. Megatron leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and even though her posture was casual Optimus could see the tension there, like a coiled spring.

“I have plans.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What happens if I just walk away?”

Megatron sighed. “You could, I suppose, but I don’t think you want to.”

“This is technically a kidnapping.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not threatening you.”

“Yes you are!”

“I have no weapons.”

“According to Iaconian Criminal Law Section 34.A dash 56.B ‘the mere implication that an individual may be subject to physical harm if they do not comply with the demand to move to another location qualifies as kidnapping.’” 

Megatron laughed, flashing irritatingly perfect teeth. One of her canines was embedded with a tiny sparkling red gem. “What, did you memorize the handbook?” 

“I, um--”

“Oh goodness, you _ did_. I can’t wait until Starscream hears about this.”

Optimus froze. “Wait, are you--have you spoken to Starscream?”

Megatron smirked at her. “You want to know more? Get in.” 

Optimus sighed. Just once, she wanted to have a normal evening. “Fine.” 

The spinner was luxurious--the plush seats were lined with sleek purple fabric and the interior was matte and dark grey. 

“So.” Megatron said, turning to face her. “My wife said you had questions.”

That hadn’t been what Optimus had been expecting to hear. “Excuse me?”

“Was she wrong? She often is. Do you not have questions?”

“I...” This was bizarre. “You talked to Starscream?” 

“No, she talked to me. First. Which she never does when we’re fighting. I always have to break the silence. But she woke me up at three in the morning and said ‘our officer has questions, talk to her.’ and then used up all the hot water. I assume you’re used to that?”

_Our? _ Optimus discarded it and focused on the other thing. “You know about--”

“About you and my wife?” Megatron laughed, and the sound of it sent shivers down Optimus’s spine “Of course.” She rolled her eyes at the expression on Optimus’s face. “Relax, if I was going to kill you, I’d have done it already.”

“Oh.” Optimus wasn’t sure whether she should be relieved or offended. She thought about Starscream sprawled out on the worn out blue duvet she’d bought on discount, her pink high heels thrown carelessly next to the bed. 

“What?”

“I suppose I thought you’d be more--possessive?”

“I see.” Megatron looked her up and down, and Optimus shivered. She’d never felt smaller than she did at this particular moment. “Believe me, officer, I am _ very _possessive of what is mine.” Optimus barely resisted the urge to scoot backwards--she was already practically squashed against the window.

“Then why--”

“That’s not what’s going on here.” The spinner glided to a halt. “Come on.” Optimus got out and followed Megatron into the elegant metal and glass skyscraper. The panes of glass flashed different shades of red and purple. 

“It’s Starscream’s building,” Megatron murmured in her ear as they walked through the polished lobby. “She remodeled it. One of her little projects. Horribly tacky, isn’t it?”

Optimus didn’t respond. 

The elevator was entirely glass, and moved so quickly that Optimus felt dizzy. It stopped on the top floor, because of course it did. Megatron pressed her hand against the key panel, and a moment later there was a cheerful beep and the elevator door swished open.

“Was Starscream--” She struggled to get the words out. “Was she setting me up?”

Megatron laughed again. Optimus _ really _ wished she would stop doing that, it was inhibiting her ability to think clearly about where she was and exactly how much danger she was in at the moment. She thought about predators who lured their prey in with good smells and bright colors.“No, officer. Starscream doesn’t ever sleep with the people she’s setting up.” She paused, thinking. “Well, I suppose she did once. But then we got married. I’m not sure which one of us won that round.” 

She let Optimus think about that while she walked over to the bar and and poured two drinks, handing one thick-bottomed glass to Optimus, who looked at it suspiciously. Megatron snorted.

“Please. I’d hardly spoil one of my homemade blends with poison.” When Optimus didn’t drink, she sighed and plucked the glass out of her hand and took a sip. “There. Now relax, all right?” Optimus expected her to sit across from her on the large, throne-like armchair that was clearly hers, but instead she sat next to her on the couch. “Well?” She cautiously took a drink. 

“It’s not bad.”

“It had better not be. I spent months on perfecting it.”

There was a moment of oddly companionable silence, and then Optimus took another gulp of her drink and cleared her throat. “So if you’re not planning to torture or kill me, maybe I could talk to you about laying off the criminal activity in Iacon?”

“Officer.” Megatron gave her a piercing look. “Do you want to know one of the things I hate most in the world?

“I don’t know. Happiness? Flowers?”

Megatron’s laugh was less mocking and more genuine this time. “Starscream told me you were funny. No, what I hate is when I see someone incredibly talented being overlooked by their superiors.”

“What are you--”

“Starscream has told me quite a lot about your commitment to your job, and how disrespectful your supervisors are. Particularly Sentinel Prime--he’s a nasty piece of work, isn’t he?”

Optimus nearly choked on her drink. “I am not discussing an officer of the Cybertronian Elite Guard with a criminal!”

Megatron was unbothered. “You know, officer, the whole idea of there being a clean line between ‘criminals’ and ‘law abiding citizens’ is propaganda.”

Optimus snorted. “Oh my god, you’re not going to try that whole ‘the Elite Guard are the real bad guys’ thing, are you?”

Megatron shrugged. “All right, tell me what we’ve done that’s so terrible.”

“You caused multiple traffic catastrophes, you’re involved in illegally smuggling goods, and I’m pretty sure you’ve killed people. Oh, and you stole government property.” 

“Not nearly as much as the Iaconian Elite Guard regularly skims off of programs for the needy.”

“Ah-ah!” Optimus pointed at her, forgetting that she had basically been kidnapped and Megatron had probably killed people. “That’s whataboutism.”

Megatron rolled her eyes. “Well. I make no apologies for my decisions. We do nasty things in my line of work. But in general, I try not to lash out at the people who don’t deserve it.”

“So you’re a believer in vigilante justice?” Optimus rolled her eyes. “Because that’s generally what good people do.” 

“I’ve never claimed to be a good person, officer.” Megatron shrugged. “But I do believe in treating my people fairly. Particularly if they’re dedicated and committed and passionate and care about their job.”

“You get those kind of people a lot in the mob?”

“You’d be surprised. But anyway, my point is that Starscream and I came to this garbage fire of a city to tear it to the ground, and we found you.” Megatron put her hand on her shoulder. “And you might be the one thing here that’s actually impressive.” 

Optimus wondered if it was normal for mafia bosses to lay the charm on so intensely. “Sure. You know when most people are impressed with a traffic officer, they send them a card, they don’t _ kidnap _them.” 

“You can leave, if you want. You’re not a prisoner. I just wanted a turn to spend some time with you.”

“Why?”

Megatron looked at her like she was missing something obvious. “Officer, Starscream told me you’re quite bright, I really didn’t expect this to take so long.” 

Optimus looked down at Megatron’s hand on her shoulder, and then up at Megatron’s face, at her wry smirk, the way their faces were a little too close together. She thought back to Starscream sprawled on her bed, her laugh when Optimus had asked her if she was married, and the way they had both smiled at her that night in the warehouse, like they could see right into her head. And then it clicked.

She scooted back on the couch. “Are you kidding me?”

“I rarely ‘kid,’ officer.”

“Optimus, okay?” She slammed her drink on the counter. “My name is Optimus.”

“Impressive.” Megatron took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You should get angry more often, it’s quite attractive on you.”

“You are such a smug _ asshole, _ I swear! Honestly, I thought Starscream was bad but clearly you’re _ both _ complete--”

Megatron’s thumb swept over her wrist, and she stuttered. “Your heart is beating very fast. Are you always this high-strung, Optimus?”

“No, I’m not high strung, I’m _ furious!_” 

“Is that all you are?” Megatron tugged her closer. 

“Yes.” Megatron rubbed a slow circle on her hip and she nearly jumped out of her skin. ”Well, no. I--” She was sure Megatron was going to kiss her and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it or was terrified of it. Their faces were so close together she could smell the homemade drink on her breath and Megatron’s hands were warm, and steady, and she wished there wasn’t a layer of clothes between them. 

“Tell me what you want, Optimus.” Megatron tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t do anything unless you want me to. Do you want me to kiss you, sweet thing?”

_ Sweet thing. _It was so condescending that she wanted to punch Megatron in her stupid perfect mouth but also she felt like she’d die if Megatron stopped touching her. 

“I--” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Megatron’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Relax. I’ll be gentle.” She winked. “Unless you’d prefer otherwise?”

Optimus made an embarrassing noise that was thankfully swallowed by Megatron’s kiss. The kiss was different than Starscream’s--demanding where Starscream was teasing, but still oddly gentle, and easy to get lost in. She didn’t even realize Megatron was tugging her towards the desk until the older woman suddenly spun her around and she was on her back. Datapads were clattering onto the floor but she barely noticed because Megatron was kissing her again and she didn’t want to stop--

“You two got started, then?” Megatron sat up, still straddling Optimus, and they both turned to look at Starscream, silhouetted in the doorframe. “Hey, Officer Friendly.”

“Starscream! Are you--”

“She lives here too.” Megatron said dryly.

“Yeah, but weren’t you two fighting?”

“We were.” Starscream crooked her finger and Megatron obligingly climbed off the desk, pulling Optimus with her, and walked over to Starscream. 

“We came to an understanding.” She took Starscream’s face in her hands. “When two people love each other, they work it out.” Starscream snorted, and then Megatron kissed her. Optimus watched Megatron gently stroke Starscream’s face with her thumb.

“I _ thought _you liked watching.” Megatron said when they broke apart. “Your eyes were as big as saucers when you saw us that night at the warehouse.”

Optimus could feel her face heat up and she looked down at the polished floor. “Ignore her.” Starscream grabbed the lapels of her jacket and pulled her down for a kiss, her wings fluttering, and Optimus could feel Megatron’s hand on her back, Megatron’s eyes on the two of them, watching as Starscream bit her lip and arched into the kiss. She wondered, suddenly, if Starscream and Megatron had talked about her when they were together, if Starscream had told Megatron that she liked having her hair pulled, or that she had a tattoo of the academy logo on her hip that she’d gotten with Elita and Sentinel, years ago.

“Mmm.” Megatron gently rubbed on her back. Her other hand was on Starscream’s wing, stroking, and Starscream made a contented noise, like a cat. “Starscream was right, you two _ do _ look good together.” 

She laughed, and Megatron and Starscream both looked at her curiously. “It’s funny that you’d say that because I was just wondering if you two--you know--talked about me.”

Starscream gave her a conspiratorial grin. “What do you think?”

“According to her, you’re quite attentive.” Megatron smiled down at her. “And you make very pretty noises. I’m very excited to hear them.” 

Optimus laughed. “You two are not as smooth as you think you are.”

Megatron scratched her scalp, making her shiver. “You’re just saying that because you’ve spent more time with Starscream than with me.”

Starscream swatted angrily at Megatron and yanked Optimus closer to her. “For your information, I made her come three times last night.”

Optimus coughed. “Oh, that’s really not--” 

Megatron pulled her back. “Three times? That’s adorable.”

Starscream glared and then grabbed Optimus’s arm. “Fuck you.”

“No, fuck _ you!”_ Megatron grabbed for Optimus, who skipped backwards and nearly bumped into a sleek coffee table. 

“Okay, are you two always like this?”

Megatron and Starscream both snapped “Yes!” at the same time, and Optimus couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Optimus, this is _ serious_!” Starscream stomped her foot. “Why aren’t you defending me?” 

Megatron snorted. “Because you’re ridiculous.” 

Starscream launched herself at Megatron and the two of them slammed into the nearest wall. Optimus watched for a moment, amused, before clearing her throat. They both turned to look at her. “Can we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

“Look at you.” Megatron pulled off her tie, which Starscream had already half unravelled, looped it around Optimus, like she had with her grapples a few weeks ago, and pulled her closer. “Taking the initiative.” 

“It is very attractive on her, isn’t it?” Starscream scooted ahead of them, pushing open the bedroom door. 

_ I can’t believe this_, Optimus thought as she fell backwards on the ridiculously soft bed. Megatron pinned her wrists over her head, quickly securing them with her tie and then leaned down to kiss her, and she was so strong that she easily held her down with one hand, and this was _ definitely _a terrible idea--

She could hear Starscream’s voice. “Looking good, ladies.” 

“There’s room for one more,” Megatron purred, and Starscream smirked.

“No, go on.” Starscream sat down in the chair with a drink she had somehow procured, a wicked smile on her face. “I’m going to finish this. Put on a show for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so apparently in tfa Megatron brews oil as a hobby? Anyway I had to include that lmao. Hopefully I did the smoothest iteration of Megatron justice, the motherfucker could probably just wink at the ground bridge and it would rebuild itself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus makes a career decision and gets the flu. Her girlfriends help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw for descriptions of flu-like symptoms, skip past the first two page breaks to avoid them

She was back in Ultra Magnus’s stark office. He eyed her over his cup of tea. “Listen, Optimus, I want to thank you for your commitment to Iacon.”

It had been two days since the papers had published news that the mafia was operating within the city. Megatron and Starscream both denied being behind the story when Optimus asked, but she was smart enough to know better. In the ensuing uproar, Sentinel had been demoted, and Optimus suspected the empty position was why Ultra Magnus had called her into the office.

“We could really use someone like you. You do well with people. They like you. You’re...approachable.” He said the word like it didn’t fit it in his mouth correctly. “If you wanted to, I was thinking of positioning you as our new head of security. You’d get to pick your team, of course, and there’d be a substantial pay increase.”

Optimus bit her lip. She thought about the person she’d been a month ago, who would have said this position was everything she’d ever wanted. And then she thought about Sentinel sneering at her, the ignored reports she’d spent hours on, and how Ultra Magnus’s eyes slid over her like she wasn’t even there. 

“I’m grateful for the opportunity, sir. Truly, I am.”

“Than accept it.”

“I’m sorry.” Optimus folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve had a good experience here, and I’m lucky to have had the opportunity to work with you, but I think I’m going to go in another direction.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m currently planning to take some classes at the Iaconian University. I have some money saved up, and I’ve always wanted to go back and get a degree--”

“I thought your dream was to be in the Elite Guard.” 

“After what happened with Elita...” Optimus swallowed. “Before you got me this job, I was thinking of going. I didn’t have enough then, but I do now.” 

_ “How much?” Starscream laughed when she answered, leaning over her lap to put out one of her cigarettes. “Yeah, we could help with that, sugar.” _

“Your team needs you.” 

“I was actually going to recommend Prowl for the position. She’s very good at her current position, and would be willing to take on the extra hours.”

“After everything I did to get you this position, you’re going to quit?”

Optimus stood up. “Sir, I greatly appreciate you putting yourself on the line for me, but I don’t owe you anything.”

“Sit back down.” 

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting across town.” She didn’t but she didn’t want to stay in the office for another minute--the walls seemed suddenly closer together, and the lights were uncomfortably bright. 

“Optimus, we are not finished.” 

_ I am_, she thought. “If you want to talk more, please let me know. In the meantime, I’m grateful we got the chance to talk. “ 

She politely held out her hand, waiting. And then Ultra Magnus stood up, his face grim, and took it.

* * *

It was almost comical how fast the fever had come on after she got back from her meeting with Ultra Magnus. Her throat felt raw, like she’d been inhaling the exhaust from Iacon’s subway, and when she walked up the steps to her apartment the muscles in her legs throbbed. 

It was empty. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected it to be otherwise--Starscream and Megatron were back together, so Starscream had no reason to be in her apartment--but something in her chest deflated anyway. It had been nice to come home to someone.

She staggered into her bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror--there was sweat glistening on her forehead and she suspected that the next morning her lips would be dry and cracked. 

“Ugh.” Optimus turned on the cold water and splashed it on her face. It helped, somewhat. All she wanted to do was to lie down for several years, but her bed was unmade and she had the empty look beds got when they’d been abandoned for several days. She knew, instinctively, that if she laid down in it she wouldn’t sleep at all.

There was a load of laundry on her dresser that she’d gotten washed but hadn’t gotten around to putting away, and she fished around in it, pulling out the first baggy sweater she touched and a pair of halfway comfortable pants. She wished she was across the city, in the still-strange apartment with the two bewildering women who she had spent the entire weekend arguing with and fucking and watching stupid movies with.

_ Stupid_, she thought to herself. Good sex didn’t equal anything more than that. 

Her kitchen was quiet and dark, which was comforting, because her temples were starting to throb. She always got headaches when she was sick. The good news was her teapot was still working. It always took forever to boil, so she settled down on the couch to wait. 

* * *

It was dark, and her body ached. She could hear voices, one high and one low. 

“Well, this explains why she didn’t answer our calls.”

“Her fever is pretty high”

“Should we--” A hand touched her cheek, cool and soothing, smelling like jasmine. She pressed into it. 

“S-Starscream?”

“No, someone called a hit in on you. Of course it’s me, idiot.”

“She’s half asleep and delirious, where is the satisfaction in mocking her?”

“Fuck off.” 

Optimus almost laughed, but then her head throbbed as she moved and she groaned. The hand on her cheek stroked her hair. “All right. It’s all right. My spinner is outside her window. Megatron, can you--”

“Already on it.” 

“Wait, wha--” Optimus only got the words half out before Megatron lifted her off the couch as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. 

“Come on, officer.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where you should have come in the first place.”

* * *

Optimus’ first thought was that she had staggered into her apartment bedroom in the middle of the night, but the sheets were too crisp and she knew she didn’t have this many pillows. And it was too quiet--normally she could hear spinners driving past her window and the shouting from the open-air market a block away. She tried to sit up, but her head spun.

A familiar voice broke the silence. “Megs, she’s awake!” 

“Starscream?” Optimus realized where she was. She hadn’t taken in much of the bedroom the last time she was there--Megatron and Starscream had done their level best to make sure that all she could think about was the two of them. 

“Who else?” Starscream perched on the edge of the bed.

“What are you--why am I here?”

Starscream shrugged. “We showed up at your apartment to surprise you and found you asleep at your desk. What were we supposed to do?”

“You could have woken me up!”

“You were halfway coherent and you seemed okay with it.”

“Hold it.” Optimus looked around the room. “How long have I been here?”

“About a day. You slept for most of it. Megatron’s personal doctor came in and prescribed you some medicine.” She pointed at the bedside table. Optimus gave her a skeptical look. “It’s not anything illegal.” 

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

Megatron chuckled. “Sure it wasn’t.”

Optimus took two of the pills, wincing at her sore throat. “You two didn’t have to do all this.” 

“We know.” Starscream patted her head. “We wanted to.”

Megatron raised her hand. “It was my idea.”

“Shut up, it was mine!”

“In what world?”

“I said--did I not say ‘hey, we should go see where Optimus went’ ”

“After _ I _ said ‘it’s odd we haven’t heard from our officer.’ ”

“You said that _ after _I said the first thing!”

Optimus let herself sink into the pillow and drift off again as they argued. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the light was fading from the sky when she woke up.

“Hello.” Megatron was sitting by the bed with a datapad, wearing a pair of reading glasses. They looked very attractive, and Optimus was suddenly aware of how much of a mess she must be. She reached up and tried to smooth out her hair. 

“Hi.”

“Starscream is out getting you some clothes. Well, technically, she’s out shopping. But she said she’d get you some clothes.” She held a glass of water out to Optimus, who took it, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I quit my job.”

“Good for you.” 

“It wasn’t because of you two.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, gingerly taking a sip of the water. To her relief, her throat didn’t hurt as much. “It had been a long time coming.”

“Fair enough.” Megatron took off her glasses and polished them on her suit jacket. “What did Ultra Magnus say?”

“He didn’t listen to me.” Optimus took another sip of the water and then placed it back on the side table. “I don’t know why I was surprised, he never did.” 

“It’s because you intimidate him.” Megatron gave her a piercing look. “You realize that, right?”

Optimus snorted. “I didn’t expect you to spout that kind of bullshit.”

“Oh, you _ do _know swear words? Starscream told me you got prissy when she swore in bed.”

Optimus’s face heated up. “I swear plenty! I just don’t curse every other word, like your wife does.”

Megatron tutted. “I see how it is--when my wife does something you like, she’s yours, but when she does something you don’t, she’s mine?”

Her voice was casual, but what it implied made Optimus feel overwhelmed for a moment. “I suppose so.” 

There was a shout from outside the room. “I’m back!” Starscream swept into the room carrying two fistfuls of glossy shopping bags, which she threw on the bed. “One of those is for you, Optimus.” Megatron walked over to the smaller woman and wrapped her arms around her waist, kissing her neck. Starscream made a muffled irritated noise, but arched into it for a moment before breaking away and hurrying over to Optimus.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A little bit, I think.” 

“Good.” Starscream kissed her on the forehead and then pushed one of the shopping bags into her arms. “Here. Go shower off. And use the shampoo I got you, it’ll work wonders on your hair.”

“My shampoo is fine.” 

Starscream patted her cheek condescendingly. “Sure it is.”

“Just go with it.” Megatron suggested. 

* * *

Optimus took a long hot shower. Starscream had also bought her body wash, conditioner, and some kind of lotion, and when she stepped out onto the heated bathroom floor the air smelt almost aggressively like jasmine. Starscream had also apparently bought her several different outfits, none of which Optimus would have picked out for herself. She picked the shirt and pants that were the least expensive-looking and walked out into the apartment living room. The television was playing what sounded like a documentary.

“There she is!” Starscream cheerfully waved from the couch. She was eating what looked like a bowl of noodle soup.

Megatron was sprawled in her armchair like it was a throne. “Who else did you think it would be, Starscream?”

Starscream slurped some of her soup. “Fuck you.” 

Optimus half-laughed. “Is this what you two do in your spare time?”

“Sometimes Megatron nags me about playing chess with her.”

“Starscream is afraid I’ll beat her.”

Starscream cackled. “Please. Every time we play, I kick your ass.” 

“You have no sense of strategy, Starscream.” Megatron practically purred her wife’s name and Starscream flipped her off in response. 

“I was educated in Vos! I took in-depth classes on strategy. My strategic skills were good enough to win you control over Crystal City’s chemical industry.”

Optimus sat next to Starscream on the couch. Starscream pointed at another bowl of soup on the side table. 

“Do you play, officer?”

Optimus looked over at Megatron. “Pardon?”

“Chess. Do you play it?” 

Starscream snorted. “Don’t fall for it.”

“I um, I used to be part of a chess club. Years ago. It was fun.” 

“All right.” Megatron typed a combination into the wide glass table in front of the television and a holographic board popped up. “Show me what you’ve got, officer.”

“Oh, I really haven’t played in a while--”

“Are you really going to let her talk to you like that?” Starscream asked, nudging her with her elbow. 

Optimus reached for one of the pieces. “You know, I do have a name, Megatron.” 

Megatron watched her make her move, and then countered it. 

“Give me a reason to remember it.” Megatron smirked at her, moving a piece of her own. 

“Don’t be afraid to bring your queen out too early.” Starscream whispered to her, squeezing her knee. 

Optimus knew she had university paperwork to fill out and friends to call and that Sentinel and Ultra Magnus were doubtlessly not finished with her. And she was definitely going to need to have a talk with her...girlfriends...about the impact of their career choices. But this moment, the three of them in a gaudily decorated living room, felt like something precious. So she let herself enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, folks! I hope to write more for this AU but in the meantime I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who read/reviewed this, I'm so grateful to all of you. This was harder to finish than I expected and if you left a comment or a suggestion it helped me more than you can know. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3


End file.
